


Chika-go 6 ½

by tuuli



Series: Chika-go [2]
Category: Hikaru no Go, The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 14:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16348340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuuli/pseuds/tuuli
Summary: Harry and Thomas tracking down someone connected to kidnappings of tourists. It should be simple enough… but things never are, are they. (This is a side story for my Chika-go fic. Technically thisisn't a crossover, having only DF characters, though the main fic is. Shortly put: it's all because Harry's being difficult. Longer explanation inside.)





	Chika-go 6 ½

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. Long story (as) short (as it can be): in my fic Chika-go (a DF & Hikago crossover) Harry spends a while doing his own investigations, and once he reappears, doesn’t really tell anyone what he’s been up to. Not even me. Seriously. So I realized I have no other option but write it all out. Because I kinda needed to know if he’d found out anything important. And then it became nearly 14k worth of words! What the heck. Harry, seriously, next time just communicate with me better, and we both will find life a little easier. 
> 
> I considered a long while where to post this fic. It doesn't quite fit into the rest of Chika-go, and also, it's not really a crossover as it has only Dresden Files characters. So this is how I decided to do it, a separate fic of its own.
> 
> So, we’re backpedaling now a bit, if you’ve been reading Chika-go, back to the time Harry left Hikaru and Sai at the Carpenters’. Here’s one freakily long chapter for you, chapter 6 ½ , as it is…
> 
> This takes place before _White Night_. Spoilers up to the flashback scene in that book.

**Chika-go 6 ½**

As I walked away from the Carpenters' house, through the garden that was in the early April as green as most places in the middle of the summer, I thought through all I knew about my current case – and had to admit to myself that it was pathetically little. This was turning into one of those days when a smart guy would have just stayed in his bed… but then again, I couldn't just ignore this kind of stuff going on in my city. In past three days, four foreign couples had gone missing. That was pretty much all they had in common: they were couples, and foreigners. Unless, of course, having nothing in common counts as a common factor? A retired librarian and office worker from Norway, restaurant owners from India, an oil-company businessman with his wife from Gabon, and the couple that first got me involved, a company employee and a housewife from Japan.

Add to that the pair Murphy had just told me about, not exactly foreigners, but otherwise fitting the non-existent pattern: a young artist couple from Anchorage, of the indigenous Iñupiat people, here to celebrate their friend's birthday… and what have we got? A bloody mess, that's all I can say. Not to mention an international crisis in the making, of course. Funny how they'd managed to keep the media from getting wind about it all, so far. Somebody pulling strings somewhere.

The fact that there was at least one practitioner, with apparent skill, involved in the kidnappings hardly made the whole thing any better. So far I'd no clue what she possibly could be planning with all these seemingly random people from all over the world, but the set-up was somewhat unsettling. Not an international tea party, I bet.

As I got into my car I thought about the boy I'd just left in Michael's care. Small mercies, but at least the other couples had been traveling without children. Hell of a thing for a 14-year-old, to be on the other side of the world, in a strange country, far from fluent in the language, and suddenly lose your parents. At least the kid got his ghostly companion, so he wasn't all alone. Even so, I couldn't really think about him without wincing. If we didn't find his parents… or found them too late… I sure didn't want to be the one telling him the news.

That's the main reason why I prefer not to take missing person cases. It's bad enough having to tell your customer that Fluffy's been eaten by a Rawhead or that hubby's sold a family heirloom to cover a gambling debt (okay, so the first case is bad, the latter can be kinda hilarious, depending,) but when it's a loved one that's gone forever, it's quite a different thing.

…of course it was just my luck that of all pubs in Chicago, the boy with the ghost had to walk into Mac's to shelter from the rain. And _of course_ I couldn't turn him down when the kid called me later and said _please_. I really got to grow a backbone where kids and women are concerned.

I drove out of the residential area where Michael was living, until I found a sufficiently quiet back alley with suitable shades to hide in. I took the box Charity had given me, found a good spot, and bent down to draw the circle on the ground. I didn't yet quite finish it, but opened the box and took out one of Charity's homemade cupcakes. Not quite pizza, maybe, but no creature with a single taste bud could resist these. I pricked my thumb with a knife, squeezed one tiny drop of blood on the cupcake, and then placed it on a handkerchief in the middle of the circle before stepping out and completing the drawing of it.

All set, I headed to my hiding place, munching a cupcake (…no creature with taste buds, you know, and hey, there were more than enough of them,) whispered a Name, and waited.

It didn't take long before a tiny flickering star appeared in the sky, approaching quickly if a little unsteadily. Soon the little fairy landed near to the cupcake. A dandelion-fluff shock of lavender hair, sprouting from underneath a red plastic bottle cap used as a helmet, a pair of shimmering dragonfly wings, an armor made of an assortment of discarded objects… and a blue plastic toothpick sword, tied to his waist on a piece of thread.

I suppressed a smile. Toot-toot was perfectly himself… though, wasn't he quite a bit bigger than last I saw him? I'd have thought a cap like that'd be too big for him.

The fairy made a careful show of checking the surroundings before slowly approaching the cupcake. Then he raised his blue sword, beckoned, and suddenly all his gang were around, all from Caption to First and Second Class Privies. The fairies surrounded the cupcake, eyeing it with unveiled craving. Then Toot raised his sword again, pointed it toward the cupcake, and they fell on it as one.

Right then the circle snapped close. The fairies reacted instantly, raising into flight with tiny high-pitched voices shrieking unanimously. It was kind of pretty, even mesmerizing, the frantic spiral of rainbow colors whirling around within the circle. It took Toot a while to get order restored, as he stood on the ground, calling something that sounded like "Ten huts! Ten huts!" until the rest of them returned to the ground, standing rigidly in attention. I had a very strong sense of déjà-vu. Funny how short memories the little folk had, it wasn't _that_ long since we'd had a pretty similar episode going on.

When everything was quiet and calm again, he slit his eyes and peered into the alley. "Harry Dresden? You there?"

Well, at least Toot-toot these days was a bit more on the beam. "Hi, Toot," I said, coming out of my hiding place. "Say," I went on when he took a deep breath, "could we skip all the empty threats this time and just get into business?"

Toot closed his mouth, tilted his head a bit and seemed to consider. His eyes flickered shortly toward the cupcake that was spread in pieces over the handkerchief.

"It is a rather small thing for all of us," he said demurely.

"I have more," I replied and opened the box to show them the rest of Charity's delicious bakeries.

I had the unwavering attention of half a dozen fairies.

"And what do you want for them?" Toot asked carefully.

"There's someone I'd like you to find for me. A woman. A wizard, or at very least a sorceress."

"Three people?" Toot asked with a frown.

"No, no, just one. A woman who is a practitioner." I described her to the fairy as thoroughly as I could, and watched the wrinkles on his little forehead grow deeper and deeper.

When I was done, Toot-toot was watching the cupcakes with an expression that was nearly pained. He didn't say anything, which in itself was unprecedented.

"Is there a problem?"

"We…" Toot spun around and shot a look at his followers who were staring at him with eager anticipation. "We can't… she is…" He fell silent.

"You know her?"

"Of her, we know of the fa'ataulāitu…" he spun around again with a nervous flutter of dragonfly wings. "But we… we can't find her if she doesn't want to be found."

Toot admitting defeat without even trying? Now that's worrisome. "If I add pizza to the deal?"

 _Now_ the expression was clearly pained. I heard the other fairies whispering excitedly. "…there isn't anything else you'd need?" Toot asked hopefully. "We could find you some other sorceress, a nicer one?"

I sighed. "Thanks for the offer, but I don't need that. What about… a man I saw in this woman's company, young, probably of the same nationality as her, with tattoos like this covering his shoulders and arms?" I showed him the quick drawing I had scribbled down of what I could remember of his rather intricate tattoos.

Toot's face brightened immediately and he bounced into air, excited. "That we can do! Yes! Pizza for getting him too?"

"He's worth only cupcakes. But if you at any point find that woman and inform me about her, I _will_ get you pizza. Three of them, and one for just the one who found her."

"Fine," Toot agreed seriously. "We will find the man for you. Cupcakes now?"

"You will get the rest once you find him," I said closing the box. I released the circle, and, after devouring what was left of the cupcake, the fairies flickered off, a shower of reversed shooting stars.

I watched a while after them. I didn't place any great hope on the little folk finding anything – I didn't even have a proper picture to show them, and overall, their attention span was a bit too limited. But I figured it didn't hurt to try. Still, I couldn't leave this thing just in their little hands. So I got back into Beetle, coaxed its motor alive, and drove to the nearest payphone.

I'd kept a pretty good track of those in this town through the years, as they got rarer and rarer, hoping they wouldn't totally disappear. I needed them, being unable to use even the simplest cell phones that had ever existed. Never knew when I needed to contact someone in a hurry, and I couldn't count on being able to find someone who'd be ready to borrow their phone to a dark looming stranger. Not to mention I'd probably break the said phone before even finishing my business.

I dialled one of the numbers I would remember in my dreams. It took a while for him to pick up.

" _What is it?_ " And I've been told I can be curt answering the phone.

"Thomas. I need to talk with you. Can we meet?"

There was a short silence. " _I... am a bit busy now._ _Can't_ _it_ _wait?_ "

I frowned at the half-hidden nervousness I could hear in his tone. I could think of a few reasons why my brother might be hesitant to meet me, and I didn't like any of them.

"No. I'm working on a case, I want your opinion on something. Rather not talk about it all on phone."

" _Oh_ ," he breathed. " _A_ _case_ _. Why didn't you say so?_ "

"I just did," I muttered, rolling my eyes. We agreed to meet in a cafe not too far away, one I didn't know but that should be easy enough to find. I kept on frowning at the receiver when I placed it down.

What the hell was going on with Thomas these days? Since the business with his family that'd left him practically banished he had bunked with me, for much longer than I'd expected when I suggested it. Don't get me wrong, I'm all set to land a mountain of pain on anyone who harms him, would go with him to the Outer Gates and back if he needed me to… but when he about a week ago finally got a place of his own I could have thrown a party. I don't know if I could have taken the invasion of empty pizza boxes and beer bottles for much longer. Or the girls. My poor innocent couch, I don't even want to know what it's been subjected to.

So, you'd think things were getting better… but I couldn't help worrying. For a long while before he moved out he'd been behaving strangely, disappearing somewhere every day, not telling me what he was up to though he most clearly _was_ up to something. And after everything I'd come across during my life, my mind was coming up with some rather unpleasant suggestions of what that something could be that he didn't want to tell me about. Then he moved out, and I still knew nothing. I'd heard of him once during the past week, and that was when he called to check if he'd got any mail to my place.

Murph told me I was being an idiot. She was strongly of the opinion that I should just ask him. Sit down with him and talk of my worries. That's not how it works – but as she doesn't have a Y chromosome, I guess it's no surprise she wouldn't understand.

I came to the cafe and gave it a long look before getting out of the car. No wonder I didn't know the place. It was the kind of café that needed that little dot on the e, a place for beautiful people to drink their lattes and mochas, not for broke, rough private investigators who preferred honest-to-god coffee-flavored coffee.

I shrugged, got out of the car and headed in. Entering the place I was hit with the most welcoming aroma of them all, that of freshly brewed coffee. Other than that, I felt just about as out of place as Bigfoot in a china shop. (Possibly more, keeping in mind what a sophisticated fellow he is.) The majority of the clientage was formed by beautiful, fashionable women, mainly young, though some of them were simply ageless. Some glanced at me as I walked by, probably wondering if I was lost, but I ignored them.

I let my gaze swipe over the place, and spotted finally Thomas sitting at a corner table, a bit apart from the others, half hidden by a neatly placed freaking palm tree or something. He was chatting, nah, flirting with the waitress, a pretty redhead who probably had forgotten there were other customers in the cafe at all. Or other people on the planet, maybe.

I walked to them with a shake of my head. Thomas looked up as I approached. "Harry," he said with a smile. "Good to see you."

"You too," I replied with a nod.

The waitress – Michelle, said her name tag – gave me an openly annoyed look, and I felt like reminding her that hey, I too was a potential paying customer.

"So," Thomas said, turning to her, and her frown evaporated faster than dew on hot pavement. "Bring me a toasted almond mocha, would you, Michelle?" She practically beamed, when he said her name. "And a black coffee for Harry." He turned his charming smile to me. "That's how you like it, right?"

"That's how I like it," I confirmed dryly. Michelle's frown was back, and I returned it with equal force. Damn it girl, you should be happy someone came to interrupt you when you're flirting with fire.

She blinked, glanced from me to Thomas and back, and something in her seemed to crumble. Then a smile was back on her face, now completely professional. "Of course. Anything else you'd like?"

Thomas looked at me. I shook my head. "That's all," he said to the girl, who fled from the place.

Thomas watched after her a while, turned then to grin at me. "That was cruel of you," he said.

I blinked. "What?"

He nodded toward the direction Michelle had disappeared to. "Don't you get it? You just crashed her hopes." He leaned over the table to whisper to me, as I still didn't comprehend, "She thinks we're on a date."

I blinked again. Groaned. "What!?" Yeah. Eloquent commentary, you can count on me there.

"The way you reacted to us. Of course, she can't know you were mad at me, not at her – and hey, Harry, we were just talking."

I shrugged, deeply uncomfortable on more than one level. Our drinks arrived – fast service in this place. I didn't look at Michelle and she didn't look at me. Thomas took a sip of his drink, whatever it was again (I refuse to call it coffee), even in that simple act managing to look casually stylish, most likely without even having to think about it. Well, maybe he _was_ innocent of any mischief, this time. It's not like he'd have to hunt women. I mean, he's the kind of guy _they'd_ be hunting in packs if they thought they've got Frosty's chance in hell.

All in all, it just wasn't fair. With that body of his, he could have stood as a model for ancient Greek sculptors, and I bet his face would make any modern-day model jealous. Add to that blue-grey eyes and wavy shoulder length black hair, and I guess it's no wonder women are all over him. The unfairest part of it all is that he can live on beer and fast food and doesn't even have to _do_ anything to keep those looks, unlike us ordinary mortals who got to sweat blood to keep in shape to outrun those occasional monstrosities we can't blow to pieces, and as for getting laid… well, let's not get there, that's downright depressing.

"So," Thomas said, "what did you want from me?" His tone was casual, but I'd come to know him well enough to see he wasn't quite as relaxed as he pretended to be.

"Just info. Have you heard any rumors recently? Anything brewing at the vampire courts?"

Of course, I might also mention that my brother, half-brother to be exact, is a White Court vampire, the kind that feeds not on blood but on life force itself, drinking it out through aroused emotions – through lust, that is. A sexual predator, to put it bluntly, which explains those looks. They are to snare the prey. He's been working hard to keep those urges at bay, though, to take just a little, feed… moderately. Of course, he's not getting to satisfy his Hunger that way. It's constant balancing, I guess, not taking too much but also enough to keep in control…

Yeah. Thinking of all he's been through, maybe he's paying a bit too high price for those looks. I could just hope he'd not decided it wasn't worth the trouble to live as he's been living.

Thomas pursed his lips a bit, thoughtfully. "Not that I know. But, you know, I'm not exactly in the loop anymore. What's it about?"

I decided to put aside my worries about him and gave him the details in low voice. I _knew_ my brother. I deny any reality where I couldn't trust him.

The longer I talked the grimmer he looked, leaning his elbows against the table as he stared at me. "You've got any idea what that's all about?" he asked as I finished.

I sighed. "Simply put: no. I can't think of anything that would require such a varied lot of people from all over the world – but I do have a bad feeling about it."

"You sure got some finely tuned senses," Thomas snorted. "There's got to be some reason they need just these people. If just anyone would do, this city's got plenty of people that could disappear without anyone missing them – kidnapping tourists is the surest way to get a lot of attention."

"Yeah." I took a sip of the hot coffee, frowning. This whole thing was just one big headache. (Damn good coffee, though. Shit. I didn't want to start frequenting a place like this, but… for this coffee…) I shook my head. Focus. "Of course, they might yet give us some kind of an ultimatum or something – but my finely tuned senses are telling me that won't be happening."

"Are you sure there's no connection between the victims?"

"None that I'd been able to figure out." I placed my coffee cup on the table and dug out my notebook to check once more the info I had, just in case there was something I'd missed, but no keys to the mystery had miraculously appeared while I wasn't looking. "They arrived at different times, stayed in different hotels, as far as we know they've never met, and with the exception of the Indians once going to Okinawa they haven't even been traveling in each other's countries… they're all different nationalities, races, ages and social classes and… wait."

The ages. The Indians were in their mid-forties, Norwegians sixties… the Africans in their mid-fifties, Japanese in their thirties… Huh. I flipped to the last couple from Anchorage. Yes, mid-twenties.

Well.

I turned a new page and scribbled there:

Anchorage 20+

Japan 30+

India 40+

Gabon 50+

Norway 60+

That was… a little too neat to be a coincidence. I stared at my notes. But what the hell did it mean?

"Their ages?" Thomas asked, tilting his head a bit as he tried to read my scribbling from the other side of the table. "So what does that mean?"

I resisted the urge to glare at him. "I've no freaking clue. But it's got to mean _something_. People from all over of the world… all neatly different ages, representing different races… it can't be a coincidence."

He snorted again. "You don't mean, Sherlock." This time I did give him a glare, and he gave me a wry smile. "I'll try to look into it and let you know if I can find out anything. But as far as I can tell, things at court have been… perfectly normal."

I grimaced a bit. I was quite sure that 'perfectly normal' in this context referred to many things I'd find objectionable. "Thanks," I muttered and pushed the notebook back into my coat pocket.

"So what are you planning to do next?" Thomas asked.

I shook my head a bit, thinking. "I've got to try to find that woman. I tried sending the little folk after her, but… I don't know, it's not quite right to say they were _afraid_ of her, but for some reason they really didn't want to follow her. Seemed to believe they wouldn't even be able to."

"But they _knew_ her?" Thomas asked, eyebrows high.

"Yeah." I frowned. "I think I need to try to ask them more closely about her. But for now, I just sent them after the young man I saw in her company. Him, they might find. Unless they get distracted."

"The little folk, huh." My brother didn't sound convinced. "Are you sure they're the right ones for this kind of job?"

I grinned at him. "You'd be surprised. As long as they can keep their mind on the job, they're perfect."

"That's just it. I'm not completely certain they've got enough mind to keep it on anything, much less…"

"Oh much you know, you pale-blooded parasite!" someone shrieked, and suddenly Toot was hovering in front of Thomas's nose, his little wings beating in an infuriated blur. "You should not doubt our service to the lord!"

"Lord?" Thomas asked, staring at the fairy with a look that was mainly amused and did nothing to lessen Toot's rage.

"Umm, Toot?" I said, glancing anxiously around. No one seemed to be paying us any attention. Faerie magic at work, I guess. If they don't want to be noticed by mortals, they won't. "Did you find him?"

"We certainly did, my lord!" Toot exclaimed, whirling to face me instead. "I am ready to lead you to him!"

"Well, that's excellent," I said while Thomas repeated in questioning tone, "Lord?" I shrugged at him; I had no idea. Wasn't going to start complaining about the title, either.

"So where is he?" Thomas asked, apparently deciding he wasn't going to get an answer to his first question.

"That," Toot said, in an icy tone, accompanied with a look that was shooting icicles at him, "is none of _your_ business."

I opened my mouth, and closed it then. Better let Thomas to deal with this. If not for any other reason than not making him feel like I thought he wouldn't be able to manage one pissed off pixie.

"My apologies," he said, keeping his face recommendably blank – though I was quite certain that little twinkle in his eye this time had nothing to do with his vampiric nature. "I do not have much experience of your kind, and the ones I have met before must have been quite mediocre specimen. Clearly they were nowhere near your level of competence; one look is enough to confirm that. In fact…"

"Oh, I know _your_ kind and your sweet tongues," Toot spat out, cutting him off, but I knew the little fellow well enough to know that that sweet tongue _had_ managed to pacify him quite a bit, and he was now holding onto his grudge mainly for appearance's sake.

" _In fact_ ," Thomas went on, "if I had known the one Harry had entrusted this task to were you, Toot-toot, I would have never doubted that it would be completed in an instant."

"You know me?" Toot asked, surprised, and I mouthed the same question.

"Of course I know you. How could I not? The word of your deeds has passed far and wide. I do beg your pardon, once more."

"Oh." Toot seemed slightly baffled, then his chest puffed up. "Well, that is only natural. You are forgiven," he said, with regal air. Then he glanced at me, expression a little furtive. "Umm, my lord… the reward?"

"Shall be yours once you've led me to this man," I said, finishing my coffee, and stood up. "Time for me to be going."

Thomas stood up as well. "I'll come with you."

I paused. "Now, look…"

"Why not?" He grasped his jacket and threw it on his shoulder. "If you happen to need help, I'd better be there, and if you don't, it won't matter one way or the other, right?"

"…I guess. I just have no idea what exactly we're going to find there."

"All the more reason to be prepared for anything," he said, and I couldn't really argue with that.

We paid our bills and headed out together, escorted by sideward looks from both customers and staff.

"I hope to see you again here," Michelle told us as we were leaving, every inch again the perfect waitress. "Have a fun evening!"

"Thanks, Michelle," Thomas replied, shooting a white grin at her. "I'm sure we will." And then he placed his arm around my waist.

I tolerated that for full three seconds, and then buried my elbow in his side. He just grinned at me though I bet it had to hurt, and clapped my back as he pushed me out in front of him.

If Toot hadn't been around I'd have given him a certain piece of my mind, but I figured it wasn't a good idea to make the little fellow think we were really fighting. Fairies can be awfully literal.

"Just you wait till we're alone," I just muttered. "You'll pay for that."

"Oh, Harry." He gave me a sweet smile. "I didn't know you're so shy."

I rolled my eyes, and let it pass. Hey, I _can_ be all patient and mature when I want to.

We squeezed into the Beetle, and Toot popped to sit on the dashboard.

"So, Toot. Where exactly is he?" I asked as Beetle's engine started humming.

"By the water, in the old building."

I bit down a sigh. I just never learn, do I? "In which direction?"

Toot pointed approximately at two o'clock, and I started driving onward. "How far?"

"Three pizza houses away," Toot answered promptly. Thomas snickered.

"Fine," I said, resigning. "Just guide me there."

It took a while, as we most certainly didn't take the shortest way, for Toot couldn't quite understand where you could and where you couldn't drive with a car, not to mention the _why_ of it all, but after a few dead ends we arrived to a lakeside storage area.

I stopped the car, and we spent a while watching the warehouse Toot pointed at in silence. It didn't seem to have been in use for years. There was a fence around it, but it had gaping holes in it, and the walls were full of graffiti, windows broken.

"That doesn't really look like a place where a competent sorceress might be hiding," Thomas pointed out, and I half agreed, half didn't. You never knew of the bad guys, they could stay at the weirdest – and usually the most unpleasant – places.

"Well, it's not exactly her we're tracking right now. Just the guy who was with her." Of course, I _had_ kind of wished finding the guy would lead me straight to her too, but things couldn't be that simple, could they? "Let's go take a look."

I drove the Beetle a bit farther away, not wanting to leave it in the proximity of the warehouse. We got out of the car and walked back to the warehouse. Before we started heading toward the hole in the fence I took out the box with Charity's doughnuts.

"So, Toot. This is where he is?"

"Yes, milord!" The little fairy was instantly by my side.

"Is he alone?"

"No. Three other humans with him. Two female, one male."

"Alright." I considered that a moment. Four against the two of us, those were really bad odds. For them. "Are they practitioners?"

Toot gave a laugh. "Are brownies smart?"

"…no?" I hazarded a guess.

"Exactly." Toot was nodding vigorously. "I've led you to your prey, my lord. The prize…?"

"Here you are," I said, opening the cover. Damn, the things smelled delicious. "As I promised, for you to share as you please."

"As I please?" Toot's eyes were locked on the doughnuts, his wings twitching eagerly.

"Yes, a great commander like you surely knows how to show appreciation for his troops," Thomas said softly, and Toot came to an abrupt stop half a second after he started moving.

"Appreciation?"

"Certainly! It is the most important thing in keeping up the morale of the troops, which I am sure a general of your caliber would know," Thomas went on with an absolutely straight face. I rolled my mind's eyes.

"Oh. Of course." Toot gave the doughnuts a long, sad look. Then he dived forward and grasped one doughnut, and I could _swear_ he stuffed it all in one go into his mouth. Don't ask me, I saw it, and still I don't know what happened. It was slightly conciliatory to see the stunned expression on my brother's face. For one thing, it proved I wasn't crazy, and for another, I didn't get to see him like that often enough.

The little pixie swallowed, and the doughnut was gone. He gave the remaining ones still one look, sighed, and raised his little blue sword. One wave, and a whirlwind of tiny fairies descended on their prey. The poor defendless doughnuts did not last long.

"Well," I said, tearing my eyes away from the strangely macabre display. "Time to get going." I turned again to look at the building, and thought through all I knew about this guy we were hunting – which wasn't much, I got to admit, but even so, _he_ wasn't someone I was overly worried about. I had seen no trace of power in him when I was spying on the woman, and he had been clearly terrified of her. That, of course, might pose a problem in making him spill what he knew about her, but… I could be terrifying enough if need be. Just had to out-terrify that woman, that's all.

But what the guy was doing at a place like this, was another question. Was I looking for some gang member? Perfectly likely, keeping in mind his tough appearance. Now, mortals posed a problem of their own, in these contexts. Using magic on them was pretty much out of question. Things were easier as long as they didn't know that, but if this guy… he needed a name, seriously. 'This guy' only works for so long. Okay. This guy. T.G. Which also stands for tattooed gangster. So, if T.G. was dealing with a sorceress (who also was a potential warlock), he might be aware of the limits the Laws of Magic put on what I could and could not do to him. And if he wasn't alone, this might become problematic.

Oh well. We'd deal with problems as they'd appear. We started toward the hole in the fence. Toot darted after us.

"Any chance you would need anything else tonight, milord?" he asked. "Any services that would be more… personal?"

Thomas snickered at that. "Take your mind out of the gutter, vamp," I told him under my breath. "I don't know yet," I said to Toot. "Hang around, if you please. I'll call you if I need something."

"Yes sir!" Toot exclaimed, saluted, and disappeared somewhere.

"Energetic little fellow," Thomas remarked. "Not to mention with an apparently bottomless stomach. What happened to that doughnut?"

"I've no idea. Maybe someone has written a treatise on fairy digestion, but I've not read it. And it's not really among my top priorities right now."

We stepped in trough the hole and approached the warehouse in silence. The place seemed abandoned, but Toot had claimed the man to be there – and had taken the prize I had promised him for finding the guy – which meant he _had_ to be nearby. There were laws about these things; even if he wanted to, Toot wouldn't be tricking me like that.

I might not be good with the delicate kind of stuff, like veils – unlike Molly who's just a natural, throwing unpiercable veils like I throw fire – but that doesn't mean I wouldn't be able to pull one good enough to distract ordinary mortals from paying too much attention to me. That's what I did as we approached the building; just a simple 'keep going, nothing to see here' suggestion. It would do nothing to trick a practitioner, and I guess not much against anyone who was really looking, but I figured it wouldn't hurt.

We didn't use the main door but headed for one in the side. It opened easily and nearly soundlessly, with a tiny little spell. I was getting pretty good in this burglary thing. The hall we entered was dark, getting just a little light from the mostly broken windows, just enough to see. Not that there would have been anything worth seeing there, just empty desks and shelves, covered in thick dust. We went on, silently. Got to give it to my brother, he knows how not to make noise. I had to stop myself from glancing over my shoulder to convince myself he was still following me.

He also had excellent hearing, so when he paused, tapped on my shoulder and raised a finger to his lips, I fell quiet as a ghost. I could hear nothing, but I couldn't lose to him in this. So I Listened, a simple enough trick, and not even magic, really, and quiet voices carried to my ears from another room.

"…is he coming?" A male voice, annoyingly whining tone.

"Stop asking!" a female voice snapped. "You drive me crazy. Are you five or something? When's he coming, when's he coming… I didn't know when you asked the first time and I don't know now!"

Yeah. I said it was annoying.

"You _should_ know," the Whiner whined. "Hell, you were supposed to contact…"

"I couldn't contact him in time, cause _someone_ failed to send me the number I should've used!"

Three guesses who the 'someone' was.

"Well I couldn't —!"

"Would you two stop that!" a third voice joined in, and got all my attention. "He comes when he comes. The point is, he _will_ come, and bitching about it won't make it any faster, so just shut up about it, Mike!"

I nodded, mouthing _him_ at Thomas. This was our guy. So he really wasn't alone, as Toot had said he wouldn't be, but his companions didn't sound overly dangerous.

"What if he won't come today?" Mike the Whiner whined on. "I need…"

"So do we all," the woman snapped. Based on the sound of her voice, she was quite on the edge.

"So do we…" slurred another female voice, almost incomprehensibly. Now, all _that_ girl needed was a good night's sleep far away from whatever it was she had been taking.

"I…"

"Get out, Mike, and have a smoke or something," T.G. cut off the Whiner, annoyed. "Come back when you've calmed down. And Kat, you shut up too." There came a gruff and shuffling of feet. Shuffling of feet that slowly approached us. I glanced at Thomas, and we both dove to a shadowed corner, half behind a shelf, right before a door opened and Mike the Whiner entered the room.

He wasn't quite what I'd been expecting. The tone of his voice had made me think of a skinny college kid. I was right about the age, alright, but couldn't have been more wrong otherwise. Okay, so, I admit, it's not good to judge people based on their looks. Maybe he _was_ a college kid. I somehow doubt it, though.

He was huge. One of those guys you might confuse with a bear, shoulders wide as a barn door, hands like spades – and dirty enough he might have been using them as such. He had a blank look in his eyes, one that made me doubt whether he had even passed elementary school. Or perhaps he was just totally stoned.

In any case, he walked right past us without noticing anything. Now, that might have been thanks to his stonedness, though I prefer to think it's all about my shitty veil. Perhaps both. In any case, he went his way, out of the room through the door we had used, and left the door he'd come from open. We started toward it as one.

The door opened to a corridor, with doors along the way, but we walked through it, reaching the door at its opposite end.

We paused. "Plan?" Thomas asked very quietly.

"What are those?" I muttered back, but yes, he had a point. Would I just barge in the way I usually did? Why not, on a closer thought. Both Toot's account and my own Listening confirmed there were only three people in the room – three ordinary young people, even if they were some gang members. Personally I was suspecting ordinary junkies. They might be (and probably were) armed, but that wasn't bad as long as I was prepared for it. The Whiner was a big guy, but he'd just left, and anyway, that wouldn't help him against Thomas.

I Listened again, but heard nothing of interest. Well, it sounded like someone might have been snoring.

"You wait here, in case the Whiner returns," I whispered to him. "I'll go to have a chat with them."

"And that's the plan?" he said with a snort.

"Everybody's a critic," I muttered. "I'm going in. You're backup."

"Fine, fine," he muttered with a sigh. "All set to save your ass…"

I did not dignify that with a reply. I nodded, took a breath, and blasted the door open.

It is just as satisfying, every single time. This door was a solid one, but that didn't stop it from splintering in small pieces all over the floor. I stepped in through the wreckage to face two pairs of wide eyes. A girl sitting frozen on a dirty old couch, a young man – the one we were chasing – spinning instantly around on his heels and sprinting toward another door. Good reactions, but that wasn't helping him.

" _Ventas servitas!_ " I called out, and the door slammed shut in front of his nose. He turned back, slowly, all tense like an animal caught in a trap. I gave him my best wolfy smile, to play the role of the predator.

"Evening," I said calmly, strolling to the center of the empty hall, staff in hand. They had just a few pieces of furniture there, from the looks of it stuff that had been dragged there from a garbage pit. The other girl was lying sprawled on the floor, half leaning against the couch. She was the one who was snoring.

"Easy there, missy," I said, seeing the non-snoring one gradually move her hand toward her bag, next to her on the couch. "Keep your hands where I can see them." A little swing of the staff brought the bag flying on the floor, and a little handgun fell out of it. I walked to it and picked it up.

"What do you want?" the girl demanded, remarkably well in control of her voice. If she was scared she hid it well.

"Just a word or two with your friend here," I said, my eyes on T.G. "No need to worry, I'm not really interested in either of you, and have no need to wish you any harm – which doesn't mean there wouldn't be none of that coming your way, if this discussion isn't fruitful."

"What you want to know?" the guy asked, trying to keep his voice even, but in his case it was empty bravado. I didn't need to go all dark and crazy wizard on him, he was already terrified.

"Information. About a certain woman." I was watching him keenly and didn't miss the tiny flash of panic in his eyes. "I think you know who I mean."

"What?" he still said. "I dunno what…"

"The woman," I said darkly, "you were meeting with for lunch today. The Polynesian sorceress."

"Sorceress?" the girl asked incredulously, standing up. "What's he talking about? What've you gotten involved in this time?" She sounded quite fed up.

He gave her a worried glanced, quite quick, before his eyes darted back to me. "Look, I can't… I really can't tell you much about her. I know nothing! Honest to gods!"

I had my eyes nailed on his forehead, avoiding his eyes and soulgaze, face set as grim as I could. "You'd better think carefully. This woman is a dangerous criminal, are you sure you want to be brought in as an accomplice?"

"Wait, what?" The girl again. "Are you a cop?"

"In this case I work for them," I stated shortly. Perfectly true. "And you," I glanced at her, "Kat. You would do well to stay apart and not get involved. Sit back down and shut up." And behold, she actually did so, staring at me a little stunned, probably wondering how I knew her name.

"You." I walked up to the young man, all the time being sure to keep also the girl in my view. "The opposite. Start talking."

"Uh…I…" He was shaking his head, hands raised in a pacifying gesture, a rather desperate note stealing into his voice. "I really don't…"

"Come now. You mean you ended up having lunch with a complete stranger today? Just bumped into her on the street and you were bonding over your common ancestry? You know her. You _fear_ her. Tell me. What is she called?"

The head shaking never ceased. "I have no idea! She has never told me her name. I… I call her O le fai." I glared at him, and he clarified, "Stingray. Cause of that tattoo."

I didn't remember any tattoos on her, but then again, I hadn't gotten such a clear look. No need to mention that.

"And what did the Stingray want from you?"

"Well, she…" His eyes were darting desperately across the room. "She just… I didn't…"

I said nothing, but while slowly walking up to him, I drew just slightly on the Hellfire, making the runes on my staff shine. There was the slightest smell of sulfur in the room. The look in his eyes was promising. Maybe just a little rerun of the good ol' _intimidatus dorkus maximus_ spell, and I'd have him.

I came to a stop in front of him, smiled, and reaching quickly out with my hand pulled off a few hairs.

"Ouch!" His hand flew up to his head as he flinched away from me, but too late. I wiggled the black hairs at him.

"Now, if you…"

That was as far as I got, when another door of the hall blew in. Things happened fast after that, in the same instant. The girl screamed. I glanced over my shoulder, swearing in my mind – I prefer to be the one kicking doors in, not the one it's done to. Three ghouls entered the room, for the moment taking all my attention, and as I started to spin around, the guy behind me gave a kick on my back and rushed out of the hall.

It's a damn good thing my reactions are fast these days. I fell, hitting my knee painfully into the rough concrete floor, but I didn't even have to think about it when I yelled out a spell that slammed the oncoming ghoul to the opposite wall. Back on my feet, I was about to rush after our guy, when the girl screamed again.

She was crouching behind the couch, staring at the ghouls with wide eyes and absolute terror on her face. The other girl was still sleeping on the floor. And one of the ghouls had set its eyes on them.

Bloody hell. I couldn't run off and leave them to that. Two of the ghouls were coming at me, but I didn't have time for them, the third one was already about to leap at the girls.

" _Forzare!_ " I shouted, hitting it in mid-leap, and just barely had my shield ready in time for the other two. One of them plummeted at me at full impact, and only when I saw its companion rush out of the door I realized the purpose wasn't so much to attack me but get me out of the way.

There was a quick flash of silver in the room, and my brother was there, throwing the ghoul that was again attempting to attack the girls away as if it were just a bag of feathers.

"Go after the one that went out!" I shrieked at him, and he nodded, running out at top speed – which for a vampire is fast. And leaving me to deal with the other two.

Which was just fine.

I took a look at them, and grinned grimly. "Haven't I been beating you two up before? Didn't get enough, did you?"

"You don't have your dog now, wizard," one of them grumbled – the burned one. Hadn't bothered to get any new clothes, by the looks of it.

"I'm just happy to get to finish what I started," I snarled. "Don't need any help for that."

I _hate_ ghouls. Ever mentioned that before? And love fighting them – as there is absolutely no reason to hold back. I can go all out on them when it's possible, as it would be here. Last time I'd had the kid to protect, and the ghouls between me and him. This time… I glanced at the girls, and saw that Kat had moved to her friend and was trying to get the pretty much unconscious girl up on her shoulder. Now, that made her go up in my estimation. Junkie or not, but she was keeping her calm in this situation, and not leaving an annoying friend behind.

"Get her out," I told her, turning my full attention back to the ghouls. She nodded, grunted, and managed to stand up, the other girl hanging limply on her right shoulder. As she backed out behind me, I gathered my will. The moment the ghouls were moving I released that will, this time fueling it up with my anger – and with Hellfire.

" _Fuego!_ "

Fire with tremendous heat engulfed them instantly, hitting them full on. The impact of the attack threw them both some ten feet away, and they fell on the floor, screaming and trashing. The hellfire burned bright and hot, the two ghouls forming one enormous pyre, the flames nearly reaching the ceiling. One tried to get up, but I was ready, slamming them both with a quick " _Forzare!_ " that flung them with strength against the concrete wall.

At that moment Mike the Whiner rushed into the room. He gave the scene one look, and rushed out again. Who knew, maybe he was smarter than he looked.

I watched the burning ghouls, ready to hit again, until their trashing ceased and there was not enough left of them to say exactly what they had once been.

I slowly became aware of the heat that hit against my face, and realized the fire had started to spread. I turned, walked out, and came face to face with Thomas at the door. He was carrying a ghoul arm with him.

I raised my eyebrows, looking at it.

"This?" he asked. "Thought I could use it as a club." He threw the arm into the burning warehouse and shook his head. "What is it with you and burning buildings?"

I just snorted. This didn't happen _that_ often.

"What about our guy?" I asked instead.

"There was a boat incoming," Thomas said, shaking his head. "He made a run for it like he had, well, like he had ghouls and a crazy wizard after him. Jumped into water and swam to it. Someone he knew, I guess, for they never came to shore but turned out again."

He pointed, and I could see a small motorboat heading out to the lake. I swore, but realized then I had something in my hand, something to which I'd instinctively clung to during the fight. I raised the few black hairs up and grinned.

"What's that?" Thomas asked.

"This?" I said in my turn, still grinning. "Just a sign of how freaking good I am." I put the hairs carefully in-between of my notebook.

The fire was spreading, and we figured it might not be a good idea to stay around any longer. Kat had apparently arrived to the same conclusion. She had dumped the other girl far enough from the warehouse not to be in any danger, and was sprinting away, fast enough. I let her go; after all, I doubt she knew anything.

"Toot," I said as we walked toward our car. He appeared instantly, the little blue sword drawn.

"Here, milord!" he exclaimed. "Ready for fight!"

"At ease, soldier," I said. "The fight's over."

The fairy gave me a very disappointed look. "You didn't call me at all."

"No," I admitted. "The thing is… against this enemy, it would have been too much. They would have been absolutely overwhelmed. But now…"

"Yes, I believe you are right, milord!" He spiraled up in the air, the sword slashing. "Had I been by your side…"

"…the fight would have hardly been fair. Exactly. But now, Toot, I've another task for you. The man you led us to is on a little boat heading out to the lake. I would like you to follow him and let me know where he is coming to shore, or if they are staying on the lake."

"On it, milord!" he exclaimed and was gone.

The sound of a siren carried to us from somewhere far away. "Time to get going," I muttered, and we hurried to the Beetle.

Tracking someone by magic across a great body of water is quite tricky, if not impossible. Water erases magic, dries it out, so to say. But with Toot's help, and the hairs as backup, there was no way I wouldn't find T.G. again.

I just hoped he wasn't running for friends – or, if he was, that the friend in question would be the woman. Stingray. Could as well call her that too, for the lack of any other name.

I just wondered about the tattoo. I had not spotted it myself, but there was no reason to think that the guy had been lying about it. Did it have some significance? Hard to say.

 _The stingray, in the Polynesian cultures, is a symbol of protection_ , a female voice said within my mind, and I grimaced. _And of stealth. It can bury itself within the underwater sand and hide there, patiently waiting, completely still. It is a common motif for tattoos in Samoa, but an unusual, I would even say unconventional, tattoo for a woman._

 _I believe I've told you to stay quiet unless I talk to you_ , I cut her off. _I'll let you know if I need a lecture from you. Now shut up._

 _Are you sure there isn't anything you'd wish from me, my host?_ the velvety voice asked, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes too visibly, least Thomas would notice. _You have found my gifts quite useful so far…_

True enough, but I wasn't going to tell her that. The way I could understand different languages, or spice my spells with Hellfire, were thanks to the shadow of a Fallen Angel residing in my mind. That in itself is a long story and not a happy one. Let's just say that she was doing her best to squirm into my good graces, and I was doing my best to keep her at a bay.

 _One question,_ I still asked. _What does…_ I paused to consider for a moment. What exactly had Toot called the woman? _What does_ ' _far at a light U' mean?_

 _Fa'ataulāitu, that is_ , she said instantly. _It is simply Samoan for a witch, one who in addition to knowing the traditional healing lore also deals with spirits._

"Well, that didn't tell me much," I muttered. Thomas glanced at me, and I shook my head. _Alright, thanks. Get lost now._

 _As you wish, my host_ , she replied in demure tone. There was an impression of a curtsey, and her presence faded into the background.

"Where are we driving to?" Thomas asked after a while.

"Just following the coast for now, until we hear from Toot." I'd barely had time to say that when I saw something in the rear mirror. Toot, little wings flapping wildly, trying to get a hold of something to ride on the car.

I slowed down and opened a window, and the little guy flew in.

"Reporting, milord!" he exclaimed, saluting in the air. "The man you are after came onshore, in… that direction." He pointed, luckily toward the direction we were going to.

"Can't be that far," Thomas muttered.

I nodded. "Say, Toot, was it a big harbor he came to? With many big boats?"

Toot confirmed that, and I nodded, having a pretty good idea where our guy had disembarked. We drove a bit further, until I found a good spot where to do my spell. No point to head to the harbor, I bet he wasn't waiting for us there. And I was right. He was on the move, probably in a car. I stepped on the gas too. The spell was hardly a better aid than Toot in tracking him, giving just the direction where he was, but now that I got him marked, he would not slip us again.

Granted there were no interventions, of course. I frowned a bit, thinking of the ghouls. They had appeared at a rather opportune moment to interrupt me right when I was about to start getting some answers. Had this Samoan witch sent them to get rid of the man before he could spill anything?

"What are you thinking?" Thomas asked. "The frown on your face would give little kids nightmares."

I snorted softly. "Just the way those ghouls showed up so nicely to interrupt us."

"Think she sent them?" Now he was frowning too. "To silence him before he talked to you? Pretty ruthless."

"That," I agreed. "But also worrisome. How did she know I was going there?"

His frown deepened. "Is she tracking you?"

"I don't understand how she could be. She cannot possibly have anything of mine, and I've taken precautions against tracking spells since the first attack of the ghouls."

"The _first_ attack of the ghouls?" Thomas asked, and I told him about that bit of my day. The day which, coming to think about, was turning quite full. Was it really just this morning the kid had called me?

"Sounds weird," Thomas muttered. "This time maybe could have been a coincidence. Maybe she just decided to deal with that guy just in case, knowing someone's after her."

"Totally possible. In which case, a good thing we were there in time to stop them."

"And the first time she might have just sent them after the boy," Thomas mused. "But why?"

"Beats me," I grunted. "Would help if I knew why she's doing all this."

"You sure it's her that's sending them?" Thomas asked, and I blinked. "I know, who else could it be, but… something doesn't click in this."

He was right about that, and the thought made me nervous. I preferred to know what's going on before taking action. Unknown factors can get you dead.

"As long as we've no evidence of a third player in this game, I'll focus on her," I said in the end. "Let's keep the picture simple."

"You call this simple?" he said with a laugh. I just shook my head.

It was turning into a long ride. Toot got restless and I opened the window for him to fly out, promising to call him if I needed him for anything, and yes, there would be pizza once this was all over.

We drove on, leaving the city behind. Thomas raised his eyebrows at a road sign at the city limit.

"Think he's just running?"

"Perfectly possible," I muttered. I hoped he wasn't. Beetle was a mighty steed, but not the best car for long chases.

At least the trail was clear now. We were on the same road as our prey. After a while he left the road, turning on a smaller byroad. We drove through the fields into a more forestry area, the road becoming smaller and smaller, until I saw it ending to a farmhouse.

I parked the Beetle in a place where it was mostly obscured from the house, but still easy to get to – and easy to drive away, fast, if need be. We continued on foot, approaching the house among the trees. It was an old two-storied building that had seen better days. The white paint was cracking off, and though nothing was broken, I shot a suspicious look at the pillars of the porch. I would rather not spend much time under there.

There was a car parked in front of it, but no one in view. Evening had come, the sun set a while ago, and it was getting quite dark. There was light in one of the windows, but no other source of light anywhere around.

"Wait here," I whispered to Thomas.

"Backup again?" he whispered back.

I nodded. "Keep an eye on things."

Twisting my arm a bit to get my protective bracelet into position I started walking toward the house. No hiding, no creeping in the shadows. I was fed up with this chase – to be such a minor player, an ordinary junkie, T.G. was proving to be annoyingly hard to catch. There was still a dull ache in my knee since the shove I'd got from him at the warehouse. I strolled through the darkness, refusing to limp, all set to smash whatever stood on my way.

Despite the dark I was spotted quite soon before I reached the front door. Perhaps the guy was getting a bit paranoid – but then again, between me and the ghouls, couldn't really blame him. A shadow moved in the window's light, and I readied my shields. The shadow disappeared, but soon the white curtains moved in another window and I heard a slight creak when it opened.

"Stop!" a voice called. I recognized it.

"We never got to finish our chat," I replied, not bothering to shout, but talking loud enough he was sure to hear. "Tell me what I want, and I'll be on my way."

"But I know nothing!" I heard the panicky edge of his voice, and got ready, walking on in silence.

Silence, which was soon broken by a shot. It hit my shield and did nothing, reflecting up to the sky. There was a little flash of blue flight on the shield, and a moment's stunned silence in the house.

"I really wouldn't recommend you to do that again," I said in a conversational tone. "It's… annoying."

I got three more shots as a reply. Some people just don't believe what's told to them.

Three blue flashes, three bullets flying to the sky. I resisted the urge to send them back toward the house. After all, I couldn't be sure that he was alone there.

I had reached the door, which was, unsurprisingly, locked. I knocked it with my staff, muttered a quiet " _Forzare_ ," and it flung open.

"Let me in, little pig, or I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in," I muttered, though I guess it was a bit late for that line. I was about to step in, but paused, half-way in.

Damn. Despite the looks of this place, I guess it wasn't abandoned. It had a threshold, and a relatively strong one. I hesitated a moment. Entering uninvited would basically strip away my magic, and I guess I had pretty much as much luck in getting an invitation as the Big Bad Wolf.

I rather doubted I'd run across the Stingray in this place, but did I dare to count on it? Without my magic I'd be pretty much screwed, then. On the other hand, what else could I do but go in? Not like me and Thomas could put up a siege here, that'd be just ridiculous. Besides, I had a hunch that T.G. wouldn't have been able to lead us to the Stingray even if he wanted. Surely the woman wasn't foolish enough to have a guy like him in her confidence.

Anyway, the case wouldn't solve itself while I stood there debating on might-be's and what-if's. So I took my gun in my hand, stepped in, and headed toward the direction the shots had come from.

Inside, the house was in much better condition than you would have guessed. And yes, clearly a home. I could just hope it belonged to the one I was chasing, but… I paused in the living room. The old wooden furniture didn't really seem to be in the style a tattooed junkie would have in his home. Especially not the rocking chair. And those pictures in the bookshelf, a great bunch of them, depicting a various assortment of people (an old wedding picture, few kids smiling gap-toothed smiles, some kids graduating, a family photo)… yeah. I really got a feeling I shouldn't be snooping around in this place. I made a mental note to try my best not to burn this house down.

Then again, I had been shot at from this building. If I happened to break something in the process of catching the shooter, I wouldn't worry too much about it.

I walked through the living room, Listening carefully, but heard nothing. I stepped into the next room, and now there came the lightest shuffle from the staircase leading to the second floor. A creak of wood from somewhere higher. I walked to the staircase, peered up into the dark.

"Listen," I said, forcing my voice quiet and calm, though I was really beginning to run out of patience. "Just answer my questions truthfully, and all will be fine. I'll go my way, you yours, and I'm perfectly happy if we never meet again. Got it?"

No reply. Hadn't been expecting one, either. I set out to climb the stairs, careful. A staircase would be a good place for an attack. Nothing happened, though, and I reached upstairs. There was a little hall, with three doors. One of them stood a little ajar, and I raised my eyebrows at it. Quite inviting. A little bit too inviting, really. Again I Listened. Nothing from the other two rooms, but from third one I caught quiet, nervous breathing, of someone who is trying to keep their breathing soundless and even, and failing.

Waiting for me, huh?

I checked my shield bracelet. Would it function well enough to reflect a bullet? I thought so. After all, it was a spell I only needed to activate, not really cast. Moreover, it was protective magic. Any offensive spells were out of question, but hopefully, there wouldn't be any need for something like that anyway.

I walked through that inviting door. Nothing happened. The room was dark, dark enough I had trouble seeing anything. Now I heard nothing, but I was certain there was someone in the room with me. I considered trying to make a light on my staff, but decided against it. Most likely it wouldn't even work, and anyway, if I was blind, so was my target, and I was confident I would function better in these circumstances. No point to make a target of myself.

I took two more steps, and froze.

A clarification: I did not mean to freeze. I just did. Almost fell down, stopping so suddenly, but somehow managed to keep my balance. I felt the magic activating around me – not a strong spell, quickly and sloppily made, but in my current state enough to paralyze me. I swore in my mind as lights turned on in the room and I saw the signs drawn on the floor. Would have sworn aloud, but I found I couldn't even move my tongue without trouble.

The guy we had been chasing stood in front of me, his gun pointed at my chest. My priorities went from trying to swear to checking whether I could still get my shield activated. Deep breath, relaxing… concentrate on one thing, and one thing only. Yes, I could move my tongue, if with a difficulty.

"I wouldn't recommend you to fire," I said. Well, mumbled. Hopefully comprehensibly.

"Why?" he said with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

"Cause the bullet's gonna reflect right back at you," I mumbled.

His smirk turned into a grimace, and his gun-holding hand twitched. "You think…!" he started angrily, but another voice cut him off.

"Be quiet, kid."

Old voice, female. Looking from the corner of my eye I turned my head, just a little bit, moving extremely slowly. Whatever this spell was that was supposed to keep me immobile, it was far from strong, and already beginning to fail. Though it was still seriously slowing me down, I could have moved faster by now. I kept it extra slow, not to alarm them.

An old woman, an even older Winchester in her hands. Seriously. That thing had to be museum stuff.

"Ma'am, sorry 'bout the intrusion. Just want a word with him." I nodded my head ever so slightly toward T.G.

"Breaking and entering, just for that?" she said. "I think I should call the cops."

"Maybe," I said, getting better and better control of my tongue. "Could also explain to the cops why you were shooting at me."

"We don't need no cops here!" T.G. exclaimed. He was again waving his gun at my face. "We just need you to go to hell, and if you don't, maybe we'll just have to send you…"

"I told you to be quiet!" the old woman snapped again. She shot a Look at the kid who did fall silent, though he kept glowering at me. "Maybe not the cops," she went on, turning back to me. "Maybe we need to contact the Wardens. How about that?"

I bit down a sigh. I bet she thought I'd be terrified to get the White Council involved in this. As if they'd have _time_ for something like this, these days. Besides, if she wanted to contact the local Warden, that'd be, well, me.

"Ma'am, _I'm_ a Warden." The stunned expression on her face was quite priceless. No need to tell her just how involuntary, on both sides, this warden business really was in my case. "The name's Harry Dresden. I'm also currently aiding the Chicago police department concerning a grand scale kidnapping case, in which the main suspect is a certain sorceress of a Samoan origin. This young man has been seen in her company..."

"Says who?!" exclaimed the said young man.

"Says me. As I told you before, I saw you having lunch today with her. The woman you call the Stingray."

"Stingray?" The woman shot yet another look at the kid, who visibly **s** hriveled up. "What's this?"

"Nothing!" he all but shrieked. "Nonsense and lies! I don't know why you're targeting me like this but I…"

"Why?" I cut him off, at the end of my patience. "Would _ten kidnapped people_ be a good enough reason? You're linked to the kidnapper, so unless you start talking, _I'll_ call the police here myself and you'll get a first hand lesson on what the word 'accomplice' means. So you…"

The kid was fast. I had barely time to realize he was moving and absolutely no time to dodge in my still slowed down state when he swung the gun at my face. It hit my nose with an exploding surge of pain, and I started falling down. I'd barely hit the ground when he was upon me, pounding at my face, screaming something incomprehensible.

The woman shouted at him, telling him to stop, but I doubt he even heard her. He landed one more blow, and then he was suddenly pulled away. I blinked up at the sight of Thomas holding him dangling in the air with one arm, pointing his own gun at his head with his other hand.

"Alright, darling, time to calm down," he muttered softly. "And you, lady, place that on the floor, slowly."

As the woman obeyed him, lowering her Winchester, I sat up, wiping away the marks on the floor and shedding off the last bits of her magic. "Bloody hell, Thomas," I said – or mumbled once again, this time because of my nose that was bleeding on my shirt. "Took your sweet time."

"Oh, you're very welcome, don't bother thanking me," he replied, and looked then down at the guy he was holding. "Now, if I got it right, Harry here has been facing some trouble trying to catch up with you. So how about you stay right here," he squeezed a little and the man made a wheezing sound, "and answer his questions, so we can finally get finished with this business."

I gathered myself up from the floor, slowly. My vision was still a bit hazy after the attack, but gradually my eyes focused on T.G. Part of what I was feeling toward him must have shown on my face, given how he paled, in a brave attempt to turn whiter than a white court vampire, despite his brown skin **.**

A little belatedly I realized that _Thomas_ wasn't in his vampire mode, unlike I had expected – but of course, he too had entered uninvited. The lack of an invitation wasn't as big a hindrance to him as it'd be to Reds and Blacks, but even so, he wouldn't be able draw on his abilities here. That didn't mean he wouldn't still be dangerous, as T.G. had just found out.

I glanced at the old woman who was watching the scene tightlipped, pose tense and worried. If she hadn't been there… well. She was there. I sighed.

"Ma'am, I _am_ sorry about this, but I also do need to get whatever he knows." I nodded my head toward T.G. and regretted it instantly. I touched my nose and winced, forgetting what I'd been about to say. Did I still have an extra handkerchief in some pocket? The one I'd used when first calling the fairies had been pretty much destroyed when they attacked the doughnut.

"Come with me," the woman said, and left the room before I could say anything. Thomas looked at me, raising his eyebrows. I returned his look, baffled. Then I shrugged and went after her downstairs, Thomas leading T.G. after me, not too gently from the sounds of it. The woman pointed at the living room couch and told me to sit down, and soon brought me a small wet towel and an icebag which she gave to me without a word.

I wiped carefully my face with the towel and pressed then the bag at my nose and eye which, I suddenly realized, was aching with dull pain too.

The woman sat down too, but Thomas remained standing, still keeping his hold of T.G.

"So," she said. "What kidnappings are you talking about?"

"Altogether ten people, so far," I said quietly. "Five couples. Foreigners, except one couple's from Alaska. Kidnapped by this 'Stingray' person, who seems to be a Samoan witch. I take he's from there too," I added, this time smarter and only looking at T.G.

"His mother was," she said, voice quiet as well, and left it at that. She turned to look at T.G. "Peter, what do you know about this?"

"I, I don't… really…" We all just stared at him as he attempted to stutter something, and his demeanor crumbled in my eyes. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I really don't know anything useful about her."

"But you know this is true?" I asked."That she has been kidnapping people?"

He nodded, saying nothing, eyes on the floor.

"Foreign couples," the woman said, worry on her face intensifying moment by moment. "Peter, please tell me… your grandparents… they did truly cancel their trip, didn't they?"

He said nothing. "His grandparents?" I asked. "What about them?"

"They were supposed to come for a visit from Samoa, but it was suddenly cancelled for reasons that remain somewhat unclear to me." She looked at the guy and heaved out a great sigh. "Peter! Tell me the truth!"

"I'm sorry!" he exclaimed. "I didn't… she said… she said she needed them! And she's dangerous, I couldn't go against her…"

"So you helped her kidnap your own grandparents?" I asked, incredulous. He said nothing, but the look on his face spoke a lot. I swore. "So we have _six_ couples. Better and better! What did she need them for?"

"I don't know," he muttered, eyes on the floor.

"Where did she take them?"

"I don't know."

"Did she need just them specifically or would some other couple have worked?"

"I don't know."

"Damn you, man! How can you not know! They're your freaking grandparents!"

He swallowed, still staring at the floor. "Yeah. But. I just… she said…she has a good cause. That… sacrifices are necessary for a better world."

I groaned. "Please don't tell me this is one of those the-end-justifies-the-means freaks who think they're saving the world when destroying it!"

No one said anything to that, but the looks were grim all around. I spent the next hour questioning the man, finding out every little detail of his meetings with the Stingray, but it was a waste of time. He truly knew nothing useful.

The grandfather clock in the living room struck midnight, and I decided it was pointless to stay any longer. Before we left, though, there was still something to be done. I told our still nameless host about the company this young guy, apparently her nephew, though I would have said she was old enough to be his granny, had been keeping at the warehouse. If possible her look darkened even more, but by the time I got to the ghouls, she grew worried.

"Do you think they'll be coming after him again?"

"That's what I'm worried about. If she's trying to silence him, I doubt they'll give up now."

"That…" T.G., or, well, Peter, said quietly from the armchair where he was now sitting, but didn't go on. We all turned to look at him.

"Yes?" I said.

"I don't think she sent those ghouls," he went on. He sat on the edge of the chair, eyes downcast, looking much smaller and far less cocky than before. "I don't know anything and she knows that. Why'd she need to silence me? And even if she did, I don't think she'd send ghouls. She's a fa'ataulāitu, spirit dealer, she has other ways to do that."

"But if she didn't send them, who did?" I asked. He just shrugged with a tiny shake of his head, still not looking up.

I swore in my mind. Just what we needed in this equation, more unknown variables. "Well, whosoever sent those ghouls, we cannot trust that they wouldn't try again. And if they're any good, they've probably tracked you here already."

 _That_ made Peter worried, I noted, not without some satisfaction.

"What should we do?" the woman asked quietly, and seeing the worry on _her_ face, my satisfaction died away. "I… I can do nothing against ghouls. Please… can't you help us?" She looked at me, looking much older and frailer than she had when she'd been holding that Winchester.

The word 'please' should be removed from English vocabulary. At least its use should be strongly restricted. _Ghouls_ could use it for all I care. Not old women and kids.

I groaned inwardly. "Fine," I muttered. "Whatever. _Of course_ I can. You," I pointed at Peter. "Go shave your head. All of it. And bring me some of your hair when you're done. Meanwhile," I turned back to the woman, "show me what you've got to work with."

It took a while, but I managed to scrape together a doll-like figure, some black hairs glued to its 'head'. Thomas watched my handicraft with an amused expression. "With those doll making skills, you'll never make a proper voodoo doctor," he said.

"You shut up," I mumbled, and gestured at T.G. Peter. "A drop of blood, please."

He stared at me with wide eyes, and I glowered at him. "Now! I'm trying to save your ass here, so start cooperating."

He got a needle from his aunt and managed to prick his finger on the third try. Wimp.

"Easy part done," I muttered, rubbing my tired eyes – accidentally also the left one, and winced. Damn this day was getting long. Now, all that remained was to put one spell on Peter to hide him from tracking, and another on the doll to give it his essence. When I was finally done with everything the grandfather clock was striking freaking two in the morning and Thomas was napping on the couch.

"Waking time, _backup_ ," I grumbled and bobbed him on the head with my staff in passing. "We're going. You should go too," I added to Peter. He didn't look eager to follow that advice, and I narrowed my eyes at him. Well, one of them. The other was narrow to begin with.

"Look, you're lucky they've not yet tracked you here. This," I waved the dolly at him, "will most likely draw them away, but it's better take no chances. You want to draw them to your aunt? So get going. Get as far away from the city as you can."

He didn't look happy about it, but did head out to his car. We watched him drive away from that porch. Well, I watched mainly the porch's pillars, certain it would yet fall upon us. It'd just figure.

With Peter out of the picture, it was about time for us to go too. I would have paid the old woman for having broken her lock, but she refused to take any money, claiming she never used it, anyway. So we just said our goodbyes and headed to the Beetle. Once we were out of sight, I stopped again, and called for Toot. The little guy appeared almost instantly, he must have been following us.

"One more service for tonight, if you would." I showed him the doll. "Would you take this somewhere on the other side of the city, as far away as you wouldn't mind flying."

He took the doll and gave it an incredulous look. "No offense, but this is _ugly_. I get it that you want to get rid of it."

"Yeah right," I muttered. "Just… take it somewhere far and leave it in the middle of a forest. Come back to the city then, I'll have pizza for you."

"A whole pizza?" he asked, face lighting up.

"Just for you," I agreed with a nod, and he took flight with a happy exclamation.

"You're growing soft," Thomas stated, watching after the little fairy. "Going out of your way to aid that punk."

"Who asked you," I muttered and drove away.

It had been one hell of a long day, I thought as we were driving toward the city. And not as productive as it could have been. Okay, so we had saved some junkies from ghouls, which, I guess, wasn't all bad. Burned down an old warehouse. Could be worse. And found out that there apparently was yet one more kidnapped couple. I swore in my mind at T.G. Thomas was right. After what he did to his own grandparents, that guy didn't _deserve_ my help. And beat me up too? If it hadn't been for his auntie…

Then I swore aloud. "I forgot to ask how old his grandparents are. Wouldn't be surprised if they're in their seventies."

Thomas said nothing.

"Thomas?" Still no reply. I glanced at him. The freaking ass was fast asleep. I slammed my hand down on the horn. The Beetle makes no tiny screeches, and he came awake with a start.

"If I can't sleep neither can you," I muttered darkly at him, and he just rolled his eyes at me before closing them again. Ass.

All things considered, I thought, pulling to a stop by a 24h pizza place, the auntie _could_ have offered us some snack. I'd eaten nothing since the Burger King. (Well, and that cupcake. Tasty but small.) Thomas woke up too, and we went to buy three pizzas. Would have stayed there to eat, but apparently my face was frightening the staff, so we took the pizzas into the car and sat there and ate two of them. Then I drove a little further and left the third one at a quiet corner on the street. I called Toot once more, and, seeing the little bright star approaching in the sky, drove away.

I dropped Thomas off near where he was living, too tired to worry whether he was still Hungry for something else than pizza, and finally started heading toward home. Couldn't wait the moment I'd finally hit my bed.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, done with this detour. I'll try to return to the main fic as soon as I can. Life's been insanely busy recently, and Harry being so stubborn I had to write this didn't really help. Also, I'm heading to Kyoto tomorrow for week and a half, so… eh. Let's see when I get the next update out.
> 
> Then for something completely different… just to share my ponderings:
> 
> There's one thing I started thinking about when writing this… and I'm going to write my thoughts here cause I kind of want them out of my head but don't know where else to write this… Warning: there'll be **spoilers** here up to _Ghost Story_. It's all about Harry and his tendency to name things, starting from random monsters, but at times it's got real significance. First there's Bob: a nameless air spirit tied to a skull, and then young Harry gave him a name. Harry also gave the Archive a real name, Ivy. Both of those acts had some real meaning, affecting strongly the named ones. Then we've got Lasciel's shadow who started to develop a distinct personality when he named her Lash. And at the end of Ghost Story he all but freaks out an archangel, when talking with Uriel he attempts to shorten the name to Uri (exactly the same way he did with Lash). I mean, seriously. What does it take to scare an archangel? Is there something going on here? Of course we know that True Names are important in Dresden-verse, but even so… can't help but wonder.


End file.
